


hundred miles an hour

by theundiagnosable



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: ...embarrassing this is embarrassing they're embarrassing, Established Relationship, M/M, they're bad at sex but they sure are trying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-18
Updated: 2018-07-18
Packaged: 2019-06-12 13:42:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15341073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theundiagnosable/pseuds/theundiagnosable
Summary: They’re lying there watching a movie, and then they’re kissing. Mitch isn’t sure where one thing turned into another, but it’s very chill, at least in theory, which is probably what Matts was going for.





	hundred miles an hour

They’re lying there watching a movie, and then they’re kissing. Mitch isn’t sure where one thing turned into another, but it’s very chill, at least in theory, which is probably what Matts was going for. Mitch isn’t about to call him on it, not if it would interrupt the kissing.

Him and Auston are like. Really good at kissing.

They’ve had basically a month of practice. Just kissing in that month, nothing else, because they’ve been taking it really slow, figuring out how the whole dating thing works when the person you’re dating is your best friend and teammate. Mitch has never taken stuff slow before. Never even close. He’s never dated his best friend before either, though, or a guy, and neither has Auston, so it makes sense.

Kissing guys is different than kissing girls. Or- kissing Matts, in particular. It’s not scary-different, just new. Like right now, making out on Auston’s couch, Mitch’s attention keeps landing on all these reminders of who he’s kissing; like how Auston smells like men’s bodywash and maybe a little like sweat, and how big he is with a thigh pressed against Mitch’s, and how his jaw’s got stubble rough under Mitch’s fingers. It’s all these very _boy_ things, very Matts things, and then his tongue is in Mitch’s mouth and Mitch is like- he can’t even explain it, every single nerve in his entire body just goes on fire, struck by lightning or Auston Matthews’ off-the-charts frenching skills.

It’s like he said: they’re really good at kissing.

Mitch is vaguely aware of the movie playing in the background, but it’s like, priority a million, currently, because Auston’s getting a hand on Mitch’s ass and is kind of tugging him close. Mitch goes, easy, ends up half in Auston’s lap, their legs slotted together. He drags a hand through Auston’s hair, doesn’t break the kiss.

And it’s kind of funny, in the part of his brain that’s still thinking stuff that makes sense: the movie’s playing and they’re both fully dressed, sweatpants and t-shirts, and the couch is too small. It’s objectively not that sexy, none of it, but Mitch is twenty-one years old and getting kissed to within an inch of his life – he’s really hard, really fast. His dick maybe isn’t really connected to his brain, in this particular case. It’s okay, though. He can feel Matts kind of in the same boat, really stiff up against Mitch’s knee. Kind of warm, too, but maybe that part’s just because they’re pressed together so close.

Auston breaks off to catch his breath, and Mitch feels fucking _bereft_.

“No, don’t-” Mitch gasps, because apparently his mouth isn’t connected to his brain either; it comes out real needy. He _feels_ real needy, like he’ll legitimately for real die if Auston stops kissing him, because taking it slow is good in a lot of ways but also really fucking hard.

Really fucking hard. Ha. There’s a dick joke there, probably. Mitch doesn’t get a chance to make it, because taking it slow has apparently been hard for Matts too, because he makes this sound and crashes his mouth into Mitch’s, intense as anything.

It’s a million different things at once: Auston’s hand on Mitch’s ass, and Mitch can feel the fabric of his pants pulling at his dick, friction that’s good and shifts steadily towards great once they start grinding up against each other, a little and then a lot, getting almost frantic.

“Can I,” Auston breathes, dragging his hand along Mitch’s hip to finish his sentence.

Mitch nods, fast, still seeking out touch, anything. “Yeah.”

And it should be a bigger moment than it is, but it’s easy as anything: Auston just touches Mitch’s dick through his sweats, barely just gets his hand cupped over it, the lightest little bit of pressure, like a promise of what’s going to go down.

Mitch comes in his pants.

It takes him by surprise, this ridiculously breathy sound punched out of him, his fingers digging into Matts’ shoulders, and he’s coming hard, can feel it in his underwear. And like, don’t get him wrong, it’s awesome, because it’s an orgasm and those are generally pretty awesome, but Mitch can’t fully enjoy it, because it’s happening simultaneously with the most embarrassing moment of his entire fucking life.

Matts barely even _touched_ him, and Mitch went off like some high schooler who’s never had his dick touched before. Which, for the record, he has; and yeah, he’s maybe not entirely as experienced as Auston, but that’s because Mitch never really did random hookups, and that’s beside the point anyways, and the point is that he knows how to have sex. For sure knows how to last longer than half a fucking second.

Except for not tonight, apparently.

“Fuck,” he says, when he can talk again, mortified.

Auston blinks, all stunned. He’s still sitting there with one hand on Mitch’s back, and Mitch can still feel the outline of his dick through his sweatpants where Mitch’s knee is between his legs. “Did you just-”

“Um,” Mitch says, and his brain is still kind of not working right. He squirms where he’s sitting.

“Oh,” Auston says, eyebrows flying up. “Wow.”

Mitch is going to _die_. “That doesn’t usually happen,” he says, and he should probably expect the way Matts whole face lights up when he smirks, all cocky.

“You’re that into me, huh?”

“You fucking suck,” Mitch retorts, quick, but he can’t help but smile just a little, absurdly relieved. Matts chirping him is normal, and it means that he didn’t get suddenly perma-turned off and decide that Mitch coming basically-untouched is a dealbreaker. “I can’t believe I did that.”

Auston’s still grinning, but he shakes his head, nearly kind. “It’s not a big deal.”

Mitch sighs. “We were taking it slow.”

“I mean, you clearly weren’t,” Auston quips, and he fucking deserves it when Mitch punches his arm, hard.

Auston has the grace to look sheepish, at least. “Okay, but it’s not- like, you shouldn’t be upset,” he says, playing with the waistband of Mitch’s underwear. “It was gonna happen at some point, right?” He pulls on the elastic so it flicks Mitch as it snaps back into place. “I- that was really hot, if that helps.”

Mitch stares down at Matts’ hand on his waist. “I wanted the first time we did it to be, like. Special, or romantic or whatever.”

“What, like, rose petals and candles?”

“ _No_ ,” Mitch says, quick, eyes darting up to meet Auston’s, just quick. “Like, some candles, maybe, I dunno.”

“Aw, Mitchy,” Auston coos, and yeah, that’s him back to being a dick.

Mitch makes a face, scoots back onto his own side of the couch and tugs at the crotch of his pants, trying to get comfortable and ending up stuck in the strange space between lingering embarrassment and residual arousal.

Auston crawls after him, leans down and kisses Mitch’s cheek, very nearly sweet.

Mitch leans into it, mostly in spite of himself. “You can get off now,” he says.

Auston shrugs. “We can wait,” he says. “If- like, we can do stuff more romantic some other time, if you want.” And, like, Mitch knows that he really means that, and it’s really sweet and all, but he’s also Mitch’s best friend, and blue balls suck, and Mitch doesn’t want to be the only one to come tonight.

“Jerk off on me already, Matthews,” he says, in place of that weird mix of selfishness and selflessness, and Matts grins, like he knows what Mitch means.

It’s not candles and rose petals. Not even close. Mitch kisses Auston through it, though, watches him jerk himself off. It’s very- no one’s pretending it’s just making out anymore, it’s sex, or at least trading orgasms, which probably counts.

It’s like, insanely hot. There’s a bunch of reasons why it shouldn’t be, because Mitch’s underwear starts to get sort of gross and sticky with drying-up come, and Matts has kind of a funny o-face, and Mitch has this weird moment of self-awareness where he realizes that a dude just came all over him and he enjoyed it, but- _fuck_ , it’s so hot, and Mitch is boneless, just content and sleepy with sex and the look on Auston’s face.

They stay cuddled together on the couch, listening to the movie credits roll. Auston does the thing they always do, since before they were boyfriends, nuzzling up so their foreheads are pressed together, right down the bridges of their noses.

“Hey,” he says, and Mitch is just _smiling,_ he can’t stop. It’s a thing no one else gets, seeing Matty like this. All soft.

“Hey,” Mitch says back, quiet.

Sex is cool. Sex with Auston is _really_ cool, he decides, once they got past all the embarrassing stuff. Not roses and candles, sure, but new and exciting and happy as anything.

\---

It wasn’t a super elegant way to start stuff, but once they have, it’s kind of impossible to stop. Like, all due respect to the taking it slow thing, but Mitch gets orgasms on the regular now, and he’s never fucking going back.

It’s kind of addictive. He’s never been attracted to anyone like he’s attracted to Matts, and it’s all the emotional crush stuff, sure, but it’s also just- Auston’s _big_ , and Mitch gets this rush every time he looks at him. His whole brain just _wants_ , and he’s never been particularly good at impulse control, so he doesn’t try, just kisses Auston and gets his hands on him in their apartments, in a storage closet at the arena, once in the bathroom on the team plane. That last one leaves both of them mildly bruised and dishevelled and sitting through a conversation with Coach about responsibility that’s almost certainly the most awkward ten minutes in human history.

Arguably worth it? They’re _really_ good at sex.

It gets better after that first time – like, duh – and doesn’t stop getting better every time after that. Like- it’s simple stuff, just handies, jerking each other off with a hand in each other’s boxers, maybe with lube if they’re being fancy. Feels fucking awesome, though. The whole ‘boyfriends’ thing is lit. Not even just the sex stuff: they go out on a real date after they play the Ducks, and they rock-paper-scissors over who gets to pay, and they even try holding hands, which is weird but fun. It’s cool, doing nice things for each other.

Mitch has an idea for a nice thing he wants to try. He’s pretty psyched about it. Even prepares before.

The California road trip’s a long one. It always is. They get the shootout win against the Sharks, which is nice, but they’re all completely beat by the end of it. Matty basically sleepwalks to their hotel room, pulling out of his suit before the door’s even closed. He throws his pants at the wall then faceplants on the bed in his dress shirt and boxers, which is arguably a Look, if a slightly pathetic and tired one. And Mitch would let him sleep, usually, but tonight he has _plans_.

“Hey,” he says, jumping onto the bed next to Auston. “So, you want a blowjob?”

Matts scrambles straight up, like, bolt upright, like he just got electrocuted. Mitch holds himself back from laughing with great difficulty, and Does Not point out the way Auston’s eyes are kind of bugging out of his head. “Wha- from you?”

Mitch rolls his eyes. “No, man, from fucking Mats Sundin. Yes, from me.” He flicks Auston’s forehead. “Obviously.”

Matts doesn’t even snark back, which is how Mitch knows he’s legit into this. “Seriously?”

“You can say n-”

“No,” Auston cuts him off, like, comically fast. “No, fuck, you- like, please do that, if that’s what you-”

“You want me to?” Mitch grins.

“Obviously,” Auston says. “Have you seen you?”

“Sick,” Mitch says, preening a little at the compliment – it’s true, he’s an irresistible sex god, basically, probably – and patting Auston’s knee. “You wanna, like-”

Auston leans in and kisses him, which wasn’t actually what Mitch was angling for, but like hell is he going to complain. It’s quiet, working its way up to something as they both shift around, adjusting how they’re positioned so Matts is lying on his back, Mitch further down the bed between his legs. Auston lifts his butt so Mitch can tug down his underwear, real helpful.

He noses at the soft skin just above Auston’s dick. It’s paler than the rest of him, no tan here.

“Mitchy, god,” Auston says, propped up on his elbows like he wants to watch. He’s already pretty hard, but Mitch jerks him a few times anyways, presses down at the tip and smudges around some of the pre-come there.

It’s not, like, a now or never kind of thing, but now’s as good a time as any, so Mitch just leans in, gets the tip of Auston’s dick in his mouth, like testing. It’s kind of- he has this moment of like, _woah, penis, hello_ , but the world keeps turning. He presses his tongue flat against it, and Auston makes this sound like nothing Mitch has ever heard from him before.

“Fuck,” he says, just unabashedly staring. “Fuck, Marns, you’re so pretty-”

Mitch can only imagine how he looks right now, his lips wrapped around Auston, peering up at him and feeling almost small, which is usually a thing he hates but tonight it’s like- good. It’s really good, the way Auston’s looking at him.

Mitch is hard too, he realizes. He wasn’t expecting that part, as much.

It’s a lot of stuff, the taste and the size and how into it Auston is; and it’s not a thing Mitch ever pictured himself doing, before, but he’s actually enjoying it, the whole experience.

He bobs up and down on Auston’s dick, tries to make it good and wet, which are pretty similar things when it comes to blowies, at least in his experience. Seems right based on Matts’ reactions, the way he’s staring, pupils blown big, hands gripping the sheets all overwhelmed.

It’s kind of an ego boost, not that Mitch really needs it. He also read, like, six different Yahoo answers on how to do this right before tonight, so he’s pretty confident. He hollows his cheeks and takes Auston in way further than before, then pulls off and gets a rhythm going, ready to settle into it.

And, see, it’s not like Mitch is keeping time, but he’s pretty sure it’s been, like, under thirty seconds, which wouldn’t be super notable, except for that Auston makes this desperate little ‘uh’ sound and comes, right in his mouth.

Mitch kind of coughs, startled; he barely gets a chance to pull off and still ends up with a decent amount of jizz in his mouth, which is half hot and half kind of weird. He doesn’t hate it, all things considered. He’s mostly just surprised. That was _fast_.

“Sorry,” Matts pants before he’s even all the way done coming. He’s got one arm flung across his face like he’s trying to hide, and every visible bit of skin is flushed bright red. “Sorry, sorry.”

Mitch runs his tongue across his teeth, wipes off his mouth with the back of his hand. “Dude,” he says, torn between being stunned and laughing out loud. The amount of shit Matts gave him for coming too quick, that first time, and now this-

“I’m so sorry,” Auston says, still covering his face. “I’m not usually-”

“It’s okay,” Mitch says, automatically going for reassuring instead of chirping, because the bits of Matts that he can see look for-real embarrassed, and Auston’s never been as good at laughing at himself as Mitch is. “You’re fine.”

He kind of- it’s funny, duh, but he also thinks he gets it, ‘cause this, what they’re doing, is a big deal. They were both shaking the first time they ever kissed, and Mitch still gets a stupid amount of embarrassing boners around Auston, this crazy intense thing that’s mostly excitement but maybe also a little bit nerves. Gay shit’s, like, intense, if you’re the only ones in your whole league.

It’s a lot. It’s the hottest thing in the world, and Mitch’s favourite thing in his life, currently, but. It’s a lot.

That or he’s just, like, a dick sucking prodigy or something.

Mitch crawls up the bed, presses a kiss to the back of Auston’s forearm and hugs him, overlaps their legs.

Auston lies there for a long time, hiding behind his arm. His breathing slows down to normal, eventually, and he’s not really hard anymore. Still pretty gorgeous.

He meets Mitch’s eyes, real tentative. “Don’t say it.”

“I wasn’t gonna,” Mitch says. Matts doesn’t buy it.

“Yeah, you were.”

“Yeah, I was,” Mitch admits; then, because Auston doesn’t look as stressed and karma’s a bitch, he grins and sticks his tongue out, a little. “You’re that into me, huh?”

“Asshole.” Auston rolls his eyes, still bright red, and lifts a hand like he’s going to cover his face again. Mitch grabs it before he can, presses a kiss to Auston’s palm then, when Auston looks suitably endeared, licks his hand, real gross on purpose.

“ _Ugh_ ,” Auston says, and he’s shoving at Mitch’s face but he’s also laughing, probably in spite of himself. “Fuckin’ nasty.”

They’re both more relaxed now, any awkwardness mostly gone. Mitch loosens his tie and tosses it in the direction of the other bed. Auston copies him, undoes the top couple buttons on his shirt, and they lie there like that, sprawled out and comfy.

Mitch shuts his eyes, snuggles up. He’s tired, between the jet lag and the hockey game and the sex stuff. He lets himself drift, loose-limbed while Matts traces his eyebrow, the line of his jaw, pokes at Mitch’s bottom lip with his thumb. It’s this tender, vaguely possessive sort of thing.

“You, like,” Auston says, like he’s confirming it, “You totally just sucked my dick.”

“I totally did,” Mitch says. He’s chirping, just a little, and he bites Auston’s thumb, really gentle.

They’re both giggling thinking about it, because having someone’s dick in your mouth is objectively kind of a weird thing, once the actual sexy part isn’t actively happening. Like. Somehow gayer than just using hands?

“Is it-”

“What?” Mitch asks, opening his eyes when Auston doesn’t continue.

Auston grins, almost self-deprecating. “Is it weird I want to kiss you now?”

“Nah,” Mitch says, yawning. “My boyfriend tells me I’m a really good kisser, so.”

“Sounds like a smart guy,” Auston says, and kisses Mitch real slow, like. Deep. Mitch sighs against him, pushes closer when Auston rests a hand high on his inner thigh, barely brushing against his dick.

“Sorry, though,” Matts says, quiet. “For real. I didn’t mean to, like, in your mouth.”

“I didn’t mind that much,” Mitch says. “But thanks.”

“Want me to make it up to you?” Auston asks. “Return the favour?”

Mitch blinks. “Like-”

“Like.” Auston says, and he brushes his fingers up against Mitch again, and Mitch’s literal entire world narrows to his dick and the idea of Matts’ mouth on it. Was he tired? Sounds fake, he doesn’t remember being tired.

“Like, you?”

Auston makes a face. “No, Marns, Mats fucking Sundin,” he deadpans, and Mitch laughs, can’t stop smiling even when Auston moves down the bed, all focused like he always is, even when Mitch is gasping and coming apart under his mouth.

They can sleep on the flight tomorrow, Mitch decides. Fuck sleep.

\---

It’s kind of a contradiction. Like- there’s a word for it, from English class, one that Mitch can’t quite remember.

He’s an optimist, see, looking on the bright side of the silver lining and everything, and that’s just how he’s always been, but he still finds himself waiting for the other shoe to drop. Like- he can’t possibly be this lucky, to get to play for the team he’s loved his whole life, to get to have his favourite person he’s ever met and play video games and do sex stuff and talk to each other’s families like they’re something to share.

He called Matts ‘babe’ a couple weeks ago, by accident. Got chirped for literal hours.

Auston smiled, though. Blushed, like, a lot.

It’s weird, living in a world where Mitch gets to call Auston stuff like ‘babe’ and get smiles in return. A million, trillion times better than he could’ve ever dreamed.

He’s freaked out, a little, by how good stuff is.

Oxymoron. That’s what it’s called, the English class thing.

“You think we’re an oxymoron?” he asks, once they’re back at Matts’ place after the team holiday party.

Auston finishes hanging up his coat in the closet, holds a hand out for Mitch to pass him his. His cheeks are still pink from the cold outside. “We aren’t morons,” he says, real reasonable. “We’re hockey players.”

And, like. He’s not wrong.

Mitch tosses his jacket at Auston, kicks off his boots and leaves them by the door. There’s already a little puddle forming under them where the snow’s melting.

“Pretty good party,” he says, and Matts nods, shoots him a smile.

“Pretty good,” he echoes. “You saw Willy’s outfit?”

“Who didn’t?” Mitch rolls his eyes, and Auston bumps up against him real gentle as he passes him in the entrance.

Auston’s checking his phone as he heads into his room, narrating the chirp he’s leaving on Willy’s dumb thirst trap picture of him in an elf costume, laughing at all the other guys roasting him in the comments. Mitch follows him, sort of- not thrown off, exactly, but. Maybe thrown off by how not thrown off he is, if that makes sense.

It’s normal. Just the most normal thing in the world, the two of them here; something settled in Mitch’s bones, the way teachers always told him to be when he was little, the way he never really was. No other shoe dropping, no oxymorons or regular morons.

Mitch leans against the dresser, scratches at the paint with his nail. “What’re you gonna do tonight?”

Auston shrugs, plugs his phone into the charger by the bed. “Fortnite or something. Why?”

Mitch shrugs back. “Wanna have sex instead?”

“Yeah, okay,” Auston says, really chill, except for how he ducks his head to hide a smile. Dork.

He crosses the room, tugs on the hem of Mitch’s shirt ‘til Mitch comes in closer. Mitch opens his mouth then closes it, doesn’t say what he was going to say. Auston notices.

“What?” he asks.

Mitch looks at him. “D’you want to, like.” Mitch hesitates, shifts where he’s standing. “Take your clothes off first?” It doesn’t come out as casual as he means it to.

Auston doesn’t call Mitch out on it, not really. “You asking?” Auston asks, and it’s teasing, a little, but his eyes are fixed on Mitch’s, serious as anything. Maybe a little daring.

Mitch swallows. “Take your clothes off,” he says. Not asking, this time.

Auston does. That’s something in itself, Mitch thinks, because Auston’s Matts but he’s also Auston Matthews, and people don’t really get to tell him what to do. People don’t really try.

It’s not some big fancy striptease. Auston just shrugs out of his shirt, leaves his pants and socks and underwear in a pile on the floor.

Mitch stares. There’s nothing he hasn’t seen in the locker room, nothing he hasn’t touched a dozen times over. Still. This feels different, intent or whatever. It feels very grown-up, like how people have sex in movies, a million slow camera shots of bodies. Mitch looks at the faint line of hair leading down Auston’s stomach, the bruise on his left leg, the dip of his hips.

Auston doesn’t look shy, just watches Mitch watching him.

“Hi,” Mitch says, because it seems like it’s his turn to say something.

“Hi,” Auston says, simple, then, “You now?” and Mitch lifts his arms, lets Auston pull off his shirt.

They stand there, once everything’s off, just looking at each other.

Mitch is like, the opposite of self-conscious, always has been, but if he was going to be insecure about anything, it’d be about his body, because he’s seen the people he’s surrounded by every day, he’s seen Matts, and Mitch doesn’t look like that.

The way Auston looks at him, though.

You can’t see Mitch’s ribs anymore, not even the top ones where he’s skinniest, because he’s older and bigger than he used to be, steadier where he stands. They both are. And even with that, right, Auston’s still the guy Mitch has been kind of obsessed with since he was eighteen, since before he knew it was a crush, since before shit got really confusing then really good.

It’s never really changed, the way Auston looks at him.

Mitch kisses his cheek, then his mouth, lifts himself up just a little so they’re on the same level. Auston exhales against him, quiet. It’s more deliberate than they usually do things, both of them standing here naked, no rush or half-discarded clothes or anything.

They’re apart for the tiniest of seconds before they’re kissing again, and this time they don’t separate, and Auston goes easily enough when Mitch backs him up toward the bed, really slowly.

“I’m gonna kiss the shit out of you, bro,” Mitch announces, to break the tension, and he knows that Matts knows that he’s laying on the ‘bro’ stuff thick on purpose for laughs, but it’s them, so Auston makes fun of him anyways.

“Sounds sick, bro,” he says, and he sits back against the headboard and gets a hand in Mitch’s hair, parts his lips when Mitch comes in with a chaste kiss, teases at Auston’s lips with the tip of his tongue.

 The rest of the city doesn’t really exist, tonight. The whole apartment is silent, no sound at all except for their breathing, the bed creaking if one of them shifts around. It’s nice, doing this without any clothes. Like- _more_ , Canada Day sparklers everywhere Auston touches Mitch’s skin. It builds nice and slow.

He doesn’t even know how long they make out for. Mitch kisses along Matts’ collarbone, under his jaw, drawing sounds out of him while Auston pushes his dick against the sheets, drags his hands along Mitch’s back. Mitch shivers.

“You like that?” Auston asks, breathless, and Mitch nods. He’s mostly just super focused on sucking a hickey into Auston’s neck, but he doesn’t mind if Auston does his weird dirty talk thing. He’s objectively not the best at it, but he seems to enjoy it and it still usually gets Mitch going, which probably just means Mitch is really gone for him.

“I’m gonna make you come a bunch of times, tonight,” Auston says, real serious, and Mitch knows he means it, can’t help the anticipation. “Whatever you want, you’re so- literally, anything.”

Mitch hums against his skin, tightens his fingers in Auston’s hair, and Auston’s hands are everywhere, wandering over Mitch’s everything.

“I could use my fingers,” he says, trailing a hand across Mitch’s ass and sort of lingering so his meaning is crystal clear. Mitch doesn’t lose it right then and there, but it’s a close thing. Auston’s not done, his voice low, close by Mitch’s ear, “I might use my mouth-”

“Fuck,” Mitch says, and it comes out ragged and exactly as overwhelmed as he feels. He forgets the hickey thing, forgets pretty much everything except wanting Auston to be touching him, because _holy shit._ “God, you- do it already, holy shit, Matty.”

And his lips are like, wet and a little swollen already, but he leans into it when Auston kisses him again, gets a hand on either side of Auston’s face and tugs him closer. He’s veering towards, like, painfully hard now, just eager, and Auston’s eager too, all but in Mitch’s lap. Their dicks are rubbing up against each other, a little bit against Mitch’s abs, and self-control still isn’t his thing, so he reaches down and wraps a hand around the both of them together, doesn’t bother starting slow.

Auston’s breath hitches against him, and he grinds down on Mitch’s lap, into his fist. “God.”

“Matts,” Mitch says, half out of his mind, and Auston just nods, a little nonsense.

“Yeah,” he says, “Yeah, c’mon-”

And they’re both getting close, and they’re _so fucking good_ at sex, and they have the whole night stretching out ahead of them. It’s almost unbearably intense, and Mitch is buzzing with excitement, jerking them off fast, and then-

Auston pulls back.

“Oh wait, shit, I forgot,” he says, out of breath, then he gets up and jogs out of the room.

Mitch has some mixed feelings. On the one hand, Matts is still totally naked, and the opportunity to check out his ass is much appreciated – the ‘hate to see you go, love to watch you leave’ kind of thing. On the other hand, Mitch is left with a boner and no one kissing him, which is less than ideal.

He sits there cross-legged, listens to Matts rattling through the kitchen drawers. His first thought is that he’s getting lube, for the fingers thing, but that wouldn’t be in the kitchen, most likely, and he wouldn’t be gone this long, because this is borderline cruel.

“Okay, ready,” Mitch hears from the hall, then Auston comes back into the bedroom. He’s walking kind of slow, one hand sort of cupped around whatever the other one is holding.

“Dude,” Mitch says, curious, and Auston kneels across from him on the bed, lowers his hand to reveal a little birthday candle, the kind that belongs in a cake.

“The fuck is this?” Mitch asks, bemused.

“A candle,” Auston says, all earnest. “I kept forgetting, but- it’s like you talked about before, remember? Romantic.”

Mitch stares.

“I didn’t get rose petals,” Auston says. “I figured they’d be messy to clean.”

It takes Mitch a second.

“Dude,” he says, utterly floored. _Months_ ago, he mentioned the candles and roses thing. “That’s so fucking cute, what the hell?”

Auston looks real proud of himself, like when he scores a goal he knows is going to be giffed a zillion times and totally fails at being humble about it. And there’s a joke there somewhere about scoring, probably, like in the sex way, but Mitch just kisses him instead because he figures that’s preferable for both of them.

It’s careful, Auston getting a hand on Mitch’s knee for balance, steadying the hand with the candle. Mitch presses another kiss to the corner of his mouth, feels the warmth of the flame on his face, the glow it’s casting. “You gonna hold it, or-”

“We can put it out for sex stuff,” Auston decides. He holds the candle for Mitch to blow it out, gets up to toss it in the trash then clambers back onto the bed, bouncing a little, all playful.

The moment is glowing, this cozy little bubble of just the two of them, and Mitch can feel the happy right down to his toes when Auston leans down to kiss him. He hooks his legs around Auston’s waist, revels in the way their bodies are pressed together everywhere.

It was just a dumb little candle, is the thing, but it feels like the biggest thing in the world, Matty remembering some dumb thing Mitch said after they had probably the worst first time together ever. Matty, like, putting in effort, not pretending to be chill about this. He’s Mitch’s _boyfriend_.

Mitch has to pull back and laugh at himself. “I like, can’t stop smiling, that’s not sexy, sorry.”

“It’s kinda sexy,” Auston says, which is for sure a lie, but a nice one. He kisses Mitch again; talks right up against his lips, all low and like, seductive. “You got a hot mouth.”

And they’re kissing again, right, and it’s really good, so it takes Mitch a second to process, then he bursts out laughing all over again.

“’I got a hot mouth’,” he echoes, incredulous, and he can’t fucking breathe, he’s laughing so hard. “ _Matthews_.”

“Shut up,” Auston groans, and he’s going red again, hiding his face in the crook of Mitch’s neck. “It came out dumb.”

“You were being all smooth and then-”

“You’re literally so annoying,” Auston says, jabbing at Mitch’s stomach. He’s trying to sound pissed and failing real hard, ‘cause Mitch can hear the laughter in his voice. “I swear to god.”

“Yeah, you love me, dude,” Mitch says, all giggly, and the moment’s really lighthearted and it stays that way, but there’s also something in the way Auston catches his eye, like he’s about to say something and stops himself, and it’s like- it’s teetering on the edge of something really honest, something not a joke.

They haven’t even been boyfriends for four months. Mitch isn’t stupid enough to say he actually loves Auston. Maybe to think it, a couple times.

The look in Matts’ eyes, though. Looking at Mitch like he’s the fucking sun. Like maybe Mitch isn’t the only one who’s thought it.

Who’s thinking it.

Mitch takes advantage of the element of surprise, flips them over so he’s on top and Matts is flat on his back, beaming up at him. Auston’s stupidly fucking beautiful when he smiles his real smile, eyes crinkling at the corners, smug and brilliant and the kind of thing that would make him go down in history, if he wasn’t going to already.

Mitch does their thing, nudges their noses together and stays real close so all he can see is Auston everywhere.

“Think you can last longer than me?” he asks, teasing.

“Bet,” Auston says, real confident, and he brushes Mitch’s hair back, gentle, the exact opposite of the bruising kiss he surges up to give.

Mitch’ll take that bet, any day. It’s a win-win kind of thing, he figures.


End file.
